


Family Tree

by Illilex0DarkFire



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Nekotalia, Nyotalia
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-13
Updated: 2017-11-13
Packaged: 2019-02-01 23:43:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,728
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12715266
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Illilex0DarkFire/pseuds/Illilex0DarkFire
Summary: Being a daughter of nations is hard. But for Monica Jones-Kirkland, life is something that she doesn’t want. Alienated from her family, Monica stumbles across the journals of her ancestors, wives of nations, and the stories they told. Among these is the tale of her great-grandmother, Elizabeth, now passed, and her troubling account of rape at the hands of the Nazis in World War II as they retreat across France. This hole in Monica’s family tree leads her on a journey across Europe from London to Moscow to discover who her great-grandfather really is, and if the missing link in the Family Tree can be filled in. And in the end, might reveal a secret that connects two bitter enemies.





	Family Tree

**Author's Note:**

> Just to note, this chapter occurs after Monica has been tortured, so there are mentions of violence.

_“And one day, I woke up and was part of History.” ~ Grandpa Rome_

Earth: January 12, 2015. 

History: Kievan Rus’- Moscow

            Darkness surrounded me in a cloak. It was cool to the touch and flowed around me like water. It whispered to me, sang lullabies in a language far too ancient to be recognized, lulling me to sleep. It whispered words of encouragement and beauty as it told me of the paradise that it was taking me too.

            I awoke as though a blade had been ripped from my skull. Gone was the protective darkness. In its place was burning pain that enveloped the entirety of me. I tried to scream. I tried to do anything that would help me, but when I tried to inhale the pain increased tenfold on my chest. It felt like I had been hit by my dad’s pick-up truck. All I could manage was a high-pitched groan that sounded like a dying animal. My eyes screwed shut as I lay on the hard ground. I thought I was dead. But wasn’t death supposed to be painless? Serene and peaceful as one enters heaven? I thought back on my life and found only one reason why I wouldn’t be in heaven. Was that it then? Was there pain because this wasn’t heaven? Was my lack of life something punishable by eternity in Hell?

            Before I could think anymore, my chest produced a loud ‘crack’. I screamed in pain, but then as the pain dulled I realized I felt better. The pain in the rest of my body had not dissipated, but the area that produced the sound felt marginally better. Was my body healing? I waited for anymore sounds, my breathing shallow due to what I assumed were cracked and broken ribs. I released a high-pitched keen when another sudden pain came from my lower abdomen. Abruptly the pain dissipated and I felt slight relief, as if my internal organs were righting themselves. However, although my abdomen now felt okay, my chest had yet to make any more progress in healing. I kept releasing groans as the pain in my limbs made itself known. Along with the new pain, a new presence made itself known to me.

            I heard soft crunching nearing me as someone approached me. I focused all of my attention on this new development, in case it was a threat. My mind was on high alert, which only caused my pain to be more pronounced. This new presence had a two beat walking pace, which meant it might be a human. I tried to fight the urge to stiffen my body, knowing that there would only be more pain. It was hard; in my entire life people had only caused me pain. As I heard the footsteps approaching me, my fear overrode my common sense and I started thrashing, trying to get up and move away from this possible threat.

            My thrashing backfired, as a small part of my brain smugly reminded me. It became clear why my arms and legs ached. My limbs were stretched at awkward angles and bent at my knees and elbows, where most of the pain was centered. I realized that several sharp objects kept me in place. It also became clear to me that I was entirely naked and stretched in an awkward spread-eagle. My fear flooded back to me as I tried to look around for the other presence. When I opened my eyes, all I could see was black, nothing. It was as if my eyes were not there. When a hand grabbed my upper arm, I released a scream without caring if it hurt my fragile chest.

            “ _Calm down, young one. I am not here to hurt you,”_ came a soft, but firm masculine voice.

            Soon after he spoke, I felt something cover my exposed body. The hand that had been on my arm moved to my face and pushed my hair from my face.

            “ _I know you cannot see me little one, but do not be afraid. This will pass. Soon you will be able to walk and see again,”_ the man tucked the cloth around my body, being sure not to go too close to any area that was too private.

            “Who are you?” I asked, blinking again and again to try and see if I could somehow see him. “Where am I?”

            _”Shh. Close your eyes young one, and rest. I will be back soon with answers.”_ With that, the warm touch left my side and the footsteps began to walk away until I could no longer hear them.

            It had been a long time since anyone had died here. I thought the world of my children was more stable than this. The last one to die should have been Germania’s son, but somehow he escaped his fate. This girl was not even a country, yet she was sent here. Why? Why has God done this to her?

            That girl was not the reason I was so distressed. No, it was the position I found her in. Though centuries past my time I still witnessed the horrors of what became known as World War II, and I know that the girl’s position cannot be an accident. Neither can her death, for with the amount of harm done to her body, that girl had not been able to do it to herself. It is a shame though. I cannot help her with her injuries. As is the way of this domain one must relive their death as they enter. I can only hope that the events which caused her death did not last long.

            I must go to the others. They must know something about what is going on. Germania must know about this.

            I traveled a short distance from the girl and reached out to grasp the handle of the door that appeared before me. Twisting it, I pushed the door open and stepped through to the other side.

Earth: January 12, 2015. 

History: Germania- Berlin

            I entered the area that would later become Berlin, looking around for the blonde haired country. He frequented this area. He said it made him feel closer to his kids.

            I heard arguing coming from over the hill, a low voice arguing with a carefree tenor. I shook my head. Those two would never learn. I traversed the grassy hill driven to find the others. Normally I would like to admire the green hills and how different this place was from my home, but today I was on a mission.

            As I came up to the crest of the hill, I found my target. Germania sat with a loud boisterous brunette who was currently talking about his latest conquest with Ancient Greece. I cleared my throat to announce my presence. The two turned around to look at me. Germania looked stern as ever, but something in his eyes suggested that he was glad I intervened.

            “Germania. Rome,” I nodded my head toward the other Ancients.

            “What is it Rus’?” My eye twitched at the Roman’s nickname for me.

            “I need you to come with me,” I turned to Germania, “There is a new addition to History.” Both men raised their eyebrows at this news. “Germania, I have a feeling you will be extremely interested in her.”

            “Her?” Rome’s eyes lit up in mischief.

            “No, Rome. You do not have access to her. Behave yourself.” I turned and strode toward the door I entered from, the two others following behind me. Soon we were returning to the snowy plains that I called home.

            My body was still in the same position it was in when the man left, though it was in exponentially less pain than when I first woke up. Most of my ribs had completely healed, in a similar feeling to the first one. Unfortunately, now that I could breathe better, it also meant that I could scream properly. Though the fire of my body had diminished, it was still present in my limbs, which I hadn’t been able to move yet. Soon I heard the footsteps returning, but it seemed like there were more of them.

            All of the sudden, a wildfire built in my eye sockets. This time, I did scream. I screamed as I screwed my eyelids shut. Trying to get rid of the fire. I was vaguely aware of the voices panicking, and footsteps coming closer and surrounding me. When the fire suddenly stopped, I cautiously opened my eyes, only to close them again as the bright light blinded me. In another second, the knives nailing my knees and ankles to the ground were ripped from me, and with another scream my arms were released as well. I cried in relief as I moved my cramped limbs closer to my body in order to protect me from the unknown people in my vicinity.

            When I opened my eyes this time, I noticed two things. One, was that it was freezing cold. It must have been my pain that kept me from feeling the weather. The second thing was that there were three men looking at me intently. One had light hair like me, and appeared to be the only one dressed for the weather. The second one had a stern look to his face, and long blonde hair that hung past his shoulders. The third was a brunette man in a gladiator’s outfit. The lecherous look on his face caused me to shrink back from the three men. As if sensing my discomfort, the blonde man smacked the brunette up the side of his head.

            “Who are you?” I asked, looking toward the one with silver hair, “And where am I?”

            “Oh, well, pretty lady, you-” the brunette with curly hair was silenced by an elbow to the ribs delivered by the stern blonde. The silver haired man cleared his throat, and I returned my attention to him.

            “My name is Kievan Rus’, young lady. The stern blonde over here is Germania, and the perverted brunette is Ancient Rome. May I ask your name?”

            I looked over to Kievan Rus’. He seemed the friendliest and safest to talk to, “My name is Monica Jones-Kirkland. Where am I?”

            Again Kievan Rus’ answered, “Hello Monica, it is nice to meet you. I would like to welcome you to History.”


End file.
